


There's Only One

by knightdun



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Multiple Personalities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4633362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightdun/pseuds/knightdun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People can have two best friends, three, or four even. But most can only call an individual soul their best friend. Married couples have each other, reckless teenagers have their “bros”, and Josh has Tyler. It’s not that he isn’t happy. The kid from some town in Ohio could not be happier to have his friend since as far back as he could remember by his side. The other one wasn’t his best friend. Josh Dun did not know the other one. He did not like the other one. But the worst part of it was, there was only one.'= ./;.+</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Only One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is pretty much the median for length that i plan to be aiming for each update. let me know opinions and such !!! alright chill. stay alive |-/

Joshua Dun, born and raised in a place about as locatable as Area 51. Tyler Joseph, born and raised right around that area. Tyler was the skinny string bean that everyone has in their grade who just is kind of off the radar and not really relevant to many others. The kid who always kept to himself unless with the only / one of the only friends he had. That’s the Josh guy that was mentioned earlier. Ever since the day they first met it was always Josh and Tyler, if not that then Tyler and Josh. The two amigos who just fooled around all day banging drums and strumming ukuleles they didn't even know how to play yet.

But learn to play they did. Banging out bass lines that were in every song on the radio soon evolved into complex rhythm structures. Three or four ukulele chords added up to thousands. By the time high school rounded the corner the kids found themselves concocting music and talking to people other than one another.

High school was, and forever will be, the elusive changing machine that shapes a person into who they grow to be. Four years determine the fate of the remaining days after.

More social with friends and family though, Tyler was a high school case of a budding flower. Being told what to do every step of his growing process, having been taught well by teachers and fed inspiration by the world alongside Dun, Joseph began to blossom with the new season. The junior year to be exact. Of course the musician’s freshman and sophomore years were not a living hell, though junior year everything really set in. The Dun boy isn't going away any time soon. He’s the best friend, a crucial part to any teenager’s story. The best friend turned to side kick it seemed. The two were inseparable to the point that people didn't even blink an eye when they invite Tyler to something and Josh skates in on his dumb ass Heely’s or something stupid like that.

Long story short- they were pretty close.

* * *

 

“Okay but what if I didn’t do anything you just said?” snapped the shorter boy sarcastically as he nonchalantly flipped through pages of a torn composition note book.

The opposite end of the conversation, red-haired taller boy, seemed less than thrilled to receive the sass back. “Listen Tyler, all I’m saying is that if you just leave butter out on the counter, it’s so much easier to spread on stuff.”

“Joshua, you know I love you like a brother. But as your brother from another mother I have to inform you that leaving your butter on the counter is a crime punishable by extreme ruthless torture or death.”

As he addressed the important topic at hand, Tyler crossed to the refrigerator and slid in the tray of butter than had been sitting, room temperature, on Josh’s kitchen counter. Having the torn notebook left agape on said counter, Josh had taken it upon himself in Tyler’s short butter absence to scan through it. “Whatever dude. Hey you haven’t shown me these. You still drafting them? They seem pretty sick.” They referring to the countless jumbles of almost illegible song lyrics and note combinations on stained and ripped pages. The musical process for Joseph was none like any other.

The teenager was like a god damn modern day Mozart he was so crazy. But like Mozart, there was a method to his madness.

Raising an inquisitive brow as he heard his friend speak, Tyler turned to find Josh already walking down the hall to his room where he was to presumably play the drums in one way or another. “Dude wait a minute. I didn’t show you ‘em cause they’re not done Dun!” The tone of voice Tyler had was a bit on the verge of annoyed yet forgiving because that Josh- Tyler's Josh - was a stickler for exploring everything he could get his grubby drummer hands on.

Tyler looked over his shoulder to the fridge where the allusive butter was just placed back and sighed. That kid was difficult. Following the trail of inspiration that Josh gave off down the hall, Tyler found himself in the doorway of his room looking to the set of drums that was ever so necessary to have in his room. Tyler did not know how to play the drums. Mister DJ Spooky Jim was off behind said drums trying out some different rhythms and progressions occasionally stopping to look at the frayed pages of the ever-so exclusive composition notebook. 

"These lyrics are sick Ty. Ready what about this one?" Josh motioned for him to come see said lyrics he was referring to. 

The singer of their little bedroom jamboree that was ever so common, just so happened to oblige and reluctantly accept other eyes on his work. As long as they were the eyes that lay in the head of his best friend. Best friend. Just having someone to call his best friend made Tyler light up a bit. His smile was soft but sweet while thinking on the subject of friendship. Without Josh his life would be very shitty. Shitty as fuck. But hey, he has Josh, and up until that point- they've been keeping each other alive. That's the most anyone could ask for really. 

Right- the lyrics. Tyler's scuffed Converse made their way across the dim room to sit on his bed and snatch the notebook back to it's rightful owner. Of course, the page that Josh so happened to be drawn to was a complete mess. Whenever Tyler sat down to write he couldn't bring himself to any sort of reality. Writing was his mind's reality. And that reality was chaos in regards to thought processes. Almost as if he wrote as another kid. Some stupid kid just ripping horrid descriptions of Joseph's life and gnawing on them until they seeped out select words crying for help. Almost as if the music he wrote and the music that they created, were disguises of everything terrible set to a back beat. Almost as if Tyler was losing himself without having anything or anyone to hold on to. Not even his best friend, how would he know. 

"There’s an infestation in my mind’s imagination, I hope they choke on smoke cause I’m smoking them out the basement" He began to read his almost illegible handwriting. Behind a brittle voice the other kid just put together a few taps on various drums. Hell, Tyler didn't know Josh's thought process. And vise versa. 

Silence.

"Keep going man. It's good I promise." Josh blinked and tapped on the cymbals idly.

Snapping back from some sort of trance taking him to that dismal place in his mind, Tyler expressed an inquisitive look before remembering the words in his hands and those flowing from the space above his throat. "This is not rap, this is not hip-hop, Just another attempt to make the voices stop. Stop." Another pause as dark hazel eyes peered at the book in his hands. "Dude?" Josh urged.

Silence.

A voice echoed through the home piercing through the translucent wall of unknown between the two boys. Both snapping their heads to the words heard, a woman appeared in the door. "You guy's don't have to stop playing for me. Just wanted to let you know I'm home Ty."

"Thanks Mum."

 


End file.
